8:32 pm. September 1, 1997

She and Ernie arrive a little later than most of her Housemates, as a result of the usual tour through the basement with the first years. For the last two years, Hannah has been happy to show them around, but today she is antsy and impatient. She catches herself walking quickly, forgetting to name the doors they pass.

When they are finally at Hufflepuff, Ernie teaches the assembled first years the knock, maybe sensing how mentally absent Hannah has gotten. Or maybe he's just caving to his ego. Either way, Hannah's glad for it.

The Common Room is emptier than usual but the assembled student body valiantly attempts to replicate every other first day of school. Everybody discusses their summer or their classes, as though it's gravely important.

Hannah's grateful when Professor Sprout shows up for her annual discussion of tolerance, the rules, and showing each other due respect.

"This year might be a little different than we're used to," says Sprout, and Hannah can tell she's choosing her words carefully. "The Ministry of Magic is going through some political changes, and the school itself is changing too."

She sweeps a look around, holds Hannah's gaze for a moment. They both know the school is going to change for the worse; Hannah doesn't know if it's comforting or terrifying that it scares Sprout, too.

"Our goal this year is to protect each other," says Professor Sprout. "That's what I promise I'll spend every waking moment doing for you and for all the other students, and that's what I hope all of you will take to heart."

Across the room, Megan Jones says softly, "Hear hear."

"Be safe," says Sprout. "Be kind, and be hopeful. Things are changing, but we will weather it."

9:12 pm. October 20, 1997

"It was bad enough when it was Umbridge," complains Ernie, as they're reaching the barrels. "Then it made me queasy just to see the scars. Horrible, horrible things."

Hannah nods indulgently and knocks.

"I hate watching it," says Ernie. "I hate it. I was sitting there for hours, Hannah, just watching Whatshisname Creevey cutting their awful slogans into his own hand. It's inhumane. That sort of practice ought to be banned." They take the second-best chairs- Sally-Anne and Megan have the best two.

"It should be," agrees Hannah, digging through her bag. She has also been there for hours watching students cut slogans into their hands. Ernie forgets sometimes who he's talking to.

They sit in silence for a moment as Hannah extricates her Charms book. "At the very least they shouldn't need Prefects to supervise it," Ernie huffs. "It's just lines. They can't be so inept that they can't supervise ten students writing lines."

"Anthony's done your shifts for four days," says Hannah, since poor Ernie's inept enough that he hasn't able to stomach supervising ten students writing lines, and even with Anthony Goldstein doing the detentions for him he still hasn't shut up about this since the detentions had started.

Sometimes Hannah thinks they've complained about everything there is to complain about, by now, but that's never stopped Ernie.

"That was good of Anthony," says Ernie. "But he shouldn't have had to. It's cruel."

"It's less cruel to you than it is to Whatshisname Creevey," Hannah points out.

They glance up and to the right as the door opens; the few students from detention stream in. Hufflepuff isn't quite as defiant as Gryffindor. They only have a few in detentions each day.

"I ought to get murtlap or something," says Hannah absently, as they scatter through the Common Room, or trail tiredly to the dorms.

"Dittany," suggests Ernie. "It's faster."

"But it stings."

"Whatever you say, Hannah."

4:23 pm. January 4, 1998

It's just after winter holiday and Hannah is impatient. When she gets back to the Common Room after dinner she finally gets a moment to talk with Megan and Sally-Anne, at the side of the room near the old player piano. "It was quiet with the Carrows?"

"Not a single problem," Sally confirms. "They did one inspection of the dorms but nobody got hurt."

"Good," says Hannah. She'd fretted nonstop over the students still at Hogwarts over the break, but she didn't trust her father alone over Christmas. "Were they alright otherwise, too?"

Sally consults the margins of her latest History of Magic test. "Iggy and James S. got in a fistfight, Martin's in the hospital wing with the flu, and Eleanor broke up with Kevin and all their friends took sides."

"Oh dear," says Hannah, as Ernie shows up.

"What'd I miss?" he says, patting Hannah on the back in greeting. "Sally-Anne, Megan. How were your holidays?"

"Eleanor broke up with Kevin and all their friends took sides," Hannah tells him.

"Oh dear," he says.

1:42 am. April 17, 1998

She and Ernie come in after midnight. Curfew was over four and a half hours ago but they are pretending they were on Prefect duty, and in any case there's nobody here to judge them for it this late. Hannah sits in the saggy chair by the fire and rubs at her eyes- she has been crying- and that's when Zacharias speaks.

"How is he?"

She hadn't noticed him there, crunched into a chair. He's staring pensively at the fire. "How do you think?" she says. She hates him, for a moment. Just a moment. Zacharias swivels quickly to glare at her, angry and a little hurt.

"Merlin's pants, Hannah. What, do you think I don't care?" he shoots back. She is almost grateful for his hostility.

"You never did before," she says. That at least is true- Zacharias thinks most Ravenclaws are insufferable. And even Hannah doesn't really like Michael Corner, so Zacharias probably has no patience for him.

Right now, Hannah is not being particularly fair to Zacharias Smith. She can almost justify it in that he is unfair right back.

"Is he alright? Can I ask you that? Would it be beneath you to answer?"

"Zacharias," says Ernie, his tone warning.

"What? You're going to give me a detention?" When they both grimace at that, he smirks. Hannah wants to slap him. Instead she feels herself welling up with angry tears.

"He's sleeping," she says shortly. "He looks like he got hit through a wall. How do you think he is?"

Some twisted, vindictive part of her is pleased when he winces.

"I'm going to bed," she says. She is sick of Zacharias Smith. Or maybe she's just exhausted. It's been a long day. Michael Corner is only the worst of it.

"Good night," says Ernie wearily.

"Good night," she says, and retreats.

11:12 pm. May 1, 1998

There is going to be a battle in less than an hour, and she and Ernie are clearing out the dorms. The younger students- those who aren't in the DA, those who wouldn't have heard anything- are happy to see them back in the school, but they don't have time for reunions. They've got to shepherd these students out of the castle before the battle starts.

"You'll all be alright," she promises. "No- just leave your things. We have to hurry."

They are worried and frantic, but they trust her enough to obey. At least in that respect she's been a good Prefect. Her own dorm is empty, its inhabitants camped in the Room of Requirement or on the run or in Azkaban. Even so, Hannah stands in the entrance for a moment, wasting precious time, before she shuts the door and follows the last of the sixth years down the stairs.

Ernie is standing near the door directing them bossily; she goes to stand next to him and he falls silent, looking at her solemnly. There is something unspoken in his gaze- they both know too well what could happen tonight. This could be it.

They don't have time for this; Hannah squeezes his arm briefly and asks if he'd double checked.

"They're accounted for," agrees Ernie.

Hannah nods. "So are the girls."

They have to go but they don't really want to; Zacharias follows the last of the sixth years out and Hannah lingers behind Ernie in the doorway, looks back in at their Common Room, so achingly familiar, so comforting. This could very well be the last time she sees it. She's overwhelmed by the simplicity of it- ragged sofas and bare stone walls and roaring fires and wooden furniture and candles everywhere. She doesn't want to leave. She wants to collapse in the saggy chair and cry.

She swallows and shuts the door firmly.